Insomnia
by SageK
Summary: Sometimes sleep escapes everyone


It had begun with a thump. A thump and the tissue thin walls of another chain motel. Agent Teresa Lisbon, unable to sleep, haunted by images of their current case, lay in her bed, eyes closed, trying to will herself to sleep. She knew she had to be up by 7 AM and, as it was all ready after one o'clock in the morning, it did not appear that she was going to get a good night's rest.

Unfortunately, every time she tried to allow her mind drift away into dreamland, vivid, Technicolor images of crime scene, bodies and murdered children flashed through her mind. The barrage of horrific sights caused sleep to elude her.

With a sigh, she flipped her pillow and, hoping the cooler side of the case would prove soothing, but it was a fruitless effort. All she could hope for was that her team might be having better luck but that was doubtful.

That was when she heard a thump echo through the wall, followed by a muffled exclamation. Clearly, Jane was still up.

When they had checked into the Budget Inn, two available room's had been side by side at the end of the hall. Jane, as was his habit, chose 'murder central' ( that room closest to the stairs) and Lisbon had taken the room next door. The others are scattered along the long hallway.

Teresa suspected that Jane, already their resident insomniac, was even more disturbed by this case than she. The victims, four pretty little blonde girls between the ages of five and seven had been murdered, cleaned, dressed like fairytale princesses and then violated before being laid out in the forest to be found by hikers.

The most recent victim had only been discovered that afternoon, just as the CBI rolled into town. They had been able to see the crime scene, the sickening tableau of the little girl, posed beneath the tree and an idyllic glen. A brook babbled happily nearby. The county sheriffs, local police officers and crime scene investigators seemed so out of place, as did the sobbing, teenage girl who had discovered the body.

Kids were always the worst.

Everyone reacted in their own way. Cho's jaw and fists clenched while Rigsby went pale and quiet. Van Pelt compressed her lips into a thin line and blinked back tears. Teresa tried not to let horror show, biting back a curse and trying not to think of her nieces and nephews.

When she glanced at Jane, she knew he was going to take this case hard. Their normally verbose and active consultant had gone still, but for a slight tremor in his hands. His blue eyes were haunted indeed gone gold and white under his tan.

Yes, everyone hated when the victims were children, but the Jane, who had lost his daughter to a madman, was clearly drawing some personal parallels. Not that anyone would blame him.

After a moment, he'd shaken himself out of his stupor, but his eyes, his eyes wavered between shuttered and despairing.

At the end of the day they were no closer to solving the case. This killer was exceptionally neat, clearly knew forensic countermeasures and investigative techniques, not leaving behind much in the way of evidence for them to find. Sometimes Teresa thought those CSI shows had done far too good a job educating criminals on how not to leave evidence.

They had returned to the hotel and retired to their individual rooms sometime around 10 PM. No one wanted to stop working, but sleep was necessary for them to continue functioning, so Teresa made the executive decision to order everyone to bed.

Sometimes being a senior agent was a little like being a preschool teacher. None of the children wanted to stop playing and take a nap, but as the teacher she knew what was good for them.

Of course, knowing Jane, she had chosen to keep a close watch on him. If anyone was going to go wandering off in the middle of the night it was going to be him. At least, from the sounds she was hearing from Jane's room, she knew he was still in there.

She lay there, listening to the sounds of her consultant puttering around his room. The TV clicked on, volume set far too low for her to hear what was on, but Jane was most likely channel surfing or watching some inane infomercial. After about five minutes the television was turned off and the pacing started again.

And kept going.

Heaving a sigh, Teresa flung back the covers and swung her legs out of the bed, blindly locating her flip-flops in the dark room. Though the hotel was fairly clean, she still wasn't about to trust the floors enough to wander about barefoot.

Stoutly refusing to over think things, Teresa made her way out of her room and down the hall, stopping in front of Jane's door. She raised her hand and knocked before common sense could rear up and tell her this was a silly idea.

No. Silly wasn't the right word. Ill advised perhaps.

Before she could mull things over further, the door swung open. Jane peered out at her, hair in a complete disarray. He had probably taken a shower and made no attempt to tame the riot of curls before attempting to sleep. To her eternal amusement, he was wearing flannel pajamas, a matching top and bottoms and she could see a white T-shirt peeking out at the neckline.

Apparently, his habit of wearing layer upon layer was not restricted to his suits.

"To what do I owe this pleasure?" he quipped, stepping back from the door slightly so that if she wished to enter she could, but not issuing the invite himself. Teresa understood implicitly that he wanted the company, but didn't feel right asking her.

She stepped past him, close enough to smell his light, sea spray cologne. "I could hear you through the wall," she said, glancing around the room, identical to her own but for the suit jacket hanging over the back of the chair.

Jane smiled a bit ruefully. "You'd think someone would realize a little soundproofing can go a long way," he said, closing the door and turning to face their. His hands moved to his hips for a moment before dropping to his sides and she realized he had been trying to put his hands in nonexistent pockets.

"No kidding," Teresa said, standing in front of him awkwardly. His suitcase had been set in the room's only chair and she wasn't quite comfortable with the idea of perching on the edge of his bed. Instead, she simply looked at him and asked, "I have to ask…you okay with this case?"

He looked stricken for a moment, and shook his head. "No. No, I don't think anyone could be okay with it," he murmured, shuffling across the room ( his slippers matched his pajamas) and dropping down onto the foot of the bed. "That's a good thing though, I think. We're still human. Even me."

Jane like to keep up his impenetrable façade, but occasionally even the best constructed walls showed their cracks. Teresa looked at her consultant, his head bowed and shoulders slumped, stripped of his pretense of infallibility. She saw him, she always saw him, even when he didn't want to be seen. She knew he was heartbroken and damaged and so very, very human.

With a sigh, she stepped towards the bed and took a seat beside him. He barely reacted to her presence and she reached a hesitant hand towards him, her fingers resting on the back of his hand. That got a reaction and he turned his palm, returning her grip almost desperately.

It was their job to deal with this sort of demons that would make most people curl up in a corner and weep. They did not have that choice. It was their job to protect everyone else from having to see what they saw.

Teresa knew sleep would not come easily that night, but at least there was some comfort in despairing with another person.

Jane's other hand came up, trapping her smaller, paler palm between his. He didn't meet her gaze directly when he commented, "You should really try to get some sleep."

"So should you." It was the only reasonable reply.

Of course Jane would take such a simple comment and react bafflingly. Without saying anything scooted back on the bed, tugging her along by their linked hands. Unsure, she allowed this and found herself seated on the unrumpled side of the bed, up by the pillows. Jane lay atop the covers, ankles crossed and arms draped across his torso, much like how he slept on the office couch.

"Close your eyes, Lisbon," he said, reaching out and extinguishing the lamp by his bedside. It is the only light on at the moment and, with the curtains drawn, the room fell into blackness.

For a moment, she sat there, unwilling to relax, just knowing this was all kinds of inappropriate. But the bed was warm, she was exhausted and simply hearing another person breathe in the darkness was as lulling as any white noise generator.

Deciding that, just this once, a little impropriety could be forgiven, Teresa slid down into a supine position and felt some of the tension flow out of her body. Her arm brushed against Jane's and she was close enough to feel the heat radiating off of his body.

It was nice, and she shoved aside the little voice in her head that warned her of the possibility of sleepy cuddling. If waking in the morning, spooned up against Jane was the price she had to pay for a few hours sleep…well, she guessed things could be worse.


End file.
